


On the Road

by AVegetarianCannibal



Series: Slice of Life [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Driving, Europe, France (Country), M/M, Misunderstandings, Paris (City), Public Sex, Road Trips, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-13 06:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: Will and Hannibal, along with their dog, embark on a road trip in France. Will couldn't be happier... but there's something weighing on Hannibal's mind.





	On the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shukkhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shukkhy/gifts).



> This follows soon after their Christmas holiday in Paris.

**The Last Day in Paris**

  
Will wakes up with the pale winter sun in his eyes and a pleasant soreness in his limbs from being bent into somewhat more extreme angles than he's used to. Although he and Hannibal discussed extending their European vacation to include Italy, they've since also discussed if perhaps they should return home and wait until summer. Will knows Hannibal is just trying to get him as much warm weather as possible, but he finds he hardly minds all the cold as long as he has Hannibal. He stretches and yawns, luxuriating in the sheets that still smell like sex. He makes a mental note to wash them before handing the keys back over to the rental agent.

It takes him a moment to notice the mingled aromas of pastry and coffee wafting down the hall from the kitchen. He grins into the nearest pillow before rolling out of bed.

"You're spoiling me!" he calls out as he pulls on a pair of thick socks and nothing else. "Not that I'm complaining!"

"Did you hear me?" he calls again.

He shuffles towards the kitchen, frowning as he receives no reply. He doesn't even get Cephi's excited chuffing in response.

"Hannibal? Are you two here?"

The kitchen is empty except for the meal that's been carefully laid out on the table: A small tray of fruit tartelettes from the patisserie down the street, two boiled eggs on a plate with generously buttered bread and slices of crisp radish, a large insulated carafe of undoubtedly strong coffee. Leaning against the latter is note written in Hannibal's meticulous hand.

 

_W,_

_I tried to wake you this morning, but I have apparently worn you out for the time being. I pray you are recovering well, and that you recuperate fully in time for my further attentions when I return this afternoon. To that end, I've left you sustenance for both body and soul, and if your lips still taste of pears when I kiss them, I shall consider them sustenance for myself, as well._

_Yours forever and always,_

_H_

_p.s. I've taken Cephi with me for a whirl around town. You know what an extrovert she is._

_p.p.s. I promise I'm not being literal about your lips being my sustenance. No need to make Chilton jokes when I get back._

 

Will snorts and crams half an egg and a hunk of bread into his mouth, chewing without consideration of manners. He folds up the note and heads back to the bedroom to tuck it into his suitcase so he doesn't forget it later when they're packing.

Just as he starts to think about taking a shower, his phone rings. A glance at the screen tells him it's Adriana on the other end of the line. Although he considers her a friend, he dreads that she might be asking him once again about taking over her sheep farm.

"Hey, I was just thinking of you," he says when he answers. It's sort of true.

"Is Oliver with you?" Adriana asks.

"He's out with our girl," Will tells her after the split second it takes to remember Hannibal's Argentinian alias. "You sound worried. Is something wrong?"

She takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm afraid I have some potentially bad news."

***

The sun is sinking into the horizon when the door finally opens and Cephi bounds inside, her nails clicking cheerfully on the floor as she heads for Will. She stands on her toes to get her ears rubbed, then trots off in search of her dinner bowl. Will's flattered that he ranks slightly higher than food in her priorities. Hannibal walks through the door a moment later, arms laden with multiple shopping bags. He drops them when he looks up and sees Will leaning against the window.

"I decided there was no point in getting dressed after my shower," Will explains with a shrug. "I was just planning to get undressed as soon as you got back anyway."

"Very efficient thinking," Hannibal commends him, and crosses the room.

Will finds himself scooped up into Hannibal's arms, spun around so quickly that his head swims, and lowered onto his back on the floor as if Hannibal were executing a particularly smooth dance move.

He laughs and arches his neck. Hannibal accepts the invitation and plants a line of kisses from the hollow of his throat to the underside of his chin. Will ducks his head so he can meet Hannibal's lips with his own. He's still grinning and half laughing as they kiss. Sometimes he's so ridiculously happy, he feels slightly drunk with it. He's blindly trying to unbuckle Hannibal's belt when he suddenly remembers something.

"Oh, wait---"

"But we've been apart all day and you taste like pears," Hannibal says between kisses. "How am I supposed to wait?"

"No, I'll forget once you fuck me into uselessness," Will says. "There's news from Adriana."

With a grumble of impatience, Hannibal sits back on his heels. "It can't wait?" His face flushed and hair sticking up at wild angles, he already looks a half undone mess.

"It has to do with our plans for the future," Will says.

Hannibal sighs. "Then please, tell me the news from our friend."

"Well, you remember the niece she mentioned?" Will calmly deals with Hannibal's belt and trousers as he relays the news. "Turns out she's changed her mind and wants to take over the farm for her aunt, after all. She's getting married and her fiance loves dogs nearly as much as I do, so he's going to run the rescue."

"Adriana rescinded her offer to give it to us?" Hannibal asks, shifting so that Will can pull his trousers off the rest of the way. The underwear goes next.

"She was very apologetic about it," Will says. "She was afraid I'd be upset."

"You're not?" Hannibal asks.

Will shakes his head. "I promised her we're not ones to settle down," he says. "Well, not geographically speaking, if you know what I mean."

An odd look crosses Hannibal's features then---so quickly and subtly that Will might be convinced he imagined it. It's barely a ripple of change just beneath the surface. The facial equivalent of the smallest of gasps. He doesn't know what to make of it. Before Will can ask him about it, Hannibal chooses that precise moment to stand up.

"What are you doing?" Will asks. "Is something wrong?"

"I'll be right back," Hannibal says as he darts down the hall to the bedroom, ass cheeks jiggling from the vigorous pace. He calls out, "I'm just getting the little bottle!"

"It's in here on the desk!" Will calls back. "Hannibal, I didn't meet you naked at the door with pear glaze on my lips and not come prepared!"

There's a pause and then, "I'll just put Cephi in bed for the night so she doesn't interrupt us!"

Will wonders if he should flip himself onto his belly and greet Hannibal upon his return with a view of his raised behind. Or maybe stretch out on his side, temple propped up on his fist like a corny centerfold? He considers his options as he lies sprawled on his back on the middle of the living room floor, semi-erect dick flopped up onto his belly and looking about as confused as its owner feels. Will gives it a couple of leisurely strokes to keep interest high.

"Hannibal! What's taking you so long?"

"I'm looking for her blanket!" Hannibal calls back.

"It's on the foot of our bed!" Will shouts.

"Not the red flannel one you got her for Christmas! The gray knitted one we brought with us!"

Will rolls his eyes. "I'm gonna jerk off in a minute and go to bed myself if you don't hurry up!"

Hannibal's agitated huff reaches him even though two rooms separate them. "Fine, fine!"

A few seconds later, the bedroom door closes with a soft click and Hannibal pads back down the hall towards the living room.

"Why are you being so weird?" Will asks.

"I'm not being weird," Hannibal says.

"Yes, you kind of _are_ being---"

Hannibal drops into a crouch beside him, cutting him off. "Is this _really_ the best use of my mouth right now, Will?"

The mental image of Hannibal sucking him off is enough to make him lose track of the conversation he was trying to start. It seemed important just a moment ago, and yet...

"Oh, all right, get in here," Will says. "We're going to talk later, though."

Hannibal obliges by clambering into position between his legs. The instant Will feels his cock disappear into the wet heat of Hannibal's mouth, he not only forgets what they were talking about, but the whole damned world, as well.

* * *

**Hitting the Road**

 

They're already at the airport, just getting out of their cab, when Will sees a half-dozen car rental kiosks lined up in the distance. 

"Let's not go back to Argentina just yet."

Hannibal blinks at him. "I thought you were eager to return to the summery southern hemisphere?"

"That was mostly your idea," Will reminds him. "There are some things I'd like to see... and do..."

He envisions having a suit made in Italy, perfectly tailored to his body in a slim fit, and then handing over a pair of scissors and asking Hannibal to cut him out of it. Hannibal would appreciate the show of trust, not to mention the symbolism and utter decadence. He'd probably have an orgasm just from that alone.

Will bites his tongue to keep from spilling his plans, but he cozies up to Hannibal and gives him his best lash flutter and a softly whispered, "Please?"

Hannibal looks dazed as he nods, eyes never leaving Will's. "Anything you want, of course."

Will smiles up at him. "Oh, trust me. You'll want this, too."

***

Will leaves the car rental choice up to Hannibal and is a little surprised when he pulls up in a Volvo.

"Like seeing an old friend?" Hannibal asks as he rolls down the window.

Will laughs. "My old Volvo would've looked like a chicken in a peacock parade next to that. I was sort of expecting a snazzy convertible or something."

Hannibal gets out to put up their luggage. "Too mid-life crisis," he scoffs. "Plus, not enough room in the back seat for an impromptu tryst."

That makes Will laugh even more. "We're not fucking in the back seat if it means kicking Cephi out of the car so her dads can get it on in private."

Hannibal sighs. "Ah well, you can't blame me for trying." He tosses the keys to Will.

"You want me to drive?"

"You're the man with the plans," Hannibal points out. He bows in courtly fashion. "I am but your amiable passenger."

Will doesn't argue as he gets into the driver's seat, but nor does he have any real plans. "Buy a sexy suit somewhere in Italy" isn't so much a plan as an idea. He's not even sure, except in a general directional sense, how to get to Italy.

He checks the navigational display in the dashboard, finds a highway that will aim them southward, and drives.

***

A day of aimless meandering delivers them to Orléans soon after dusk as a soft, glittering snow begins to fall.

"Let's just check into the first dog-friendly hotel we come across," Will suggests. "I want to stretch my legs."

"You didn't reserve a room?" Hannibal asks.

"I didn't even know we were coming here," Will says. "How could I have reserved a room anywhere?"

He glances over at Hannibal, who is giving him the oddest little smile. "Oh, of course! I forgot for a moment that this was all very last minute of you."

"You're being weird again," Will says.

Hannibal just hums a sound of vague acquiescence and turns in his seat so he can get Cephi back into her sweater.

Before long, Will decides on a little place called _l'Hôtel de l'Abeille_ , just going off the look of it. With its white plaster and brick exterior, scalloped awnings and wrought iron windows, it looks so much like any number of buildings he grew up around that he feels slightly homesick for a moment. It makes sense, of course, that Orléans would resemble its younger sibling in Louisiana. He suddenly has an undeniable craving for pastry and coffee so rich he can stand a spoon in it.

A quick check on his phone confirms that pets are allowed. "Hey, lucky for us," he says, showing the screen.

"Lucky indeed," Hannibal says.

"Would you take Cephi for a pee while I see about a room?" Will asks, even as Hannibal is already picking out a lead for her that matches his gloves.

* * *

**The Saint of Orleans**

 

The interior is homey---more like an eclectically decorated old house than most hotels Will has been in. A fire is burning low in the lounge and a handful of people linger in the bar area. There's not a lobby so much as a desk tucked against the wall. A young woman with a platinum blond buzz cut stands behind it and greets him with a tired but welcoming smile.

"Parlez-vous anglais?" Will asks. "My French is... _très pitoyable_."

"Of course," she says. Her name tag identifies her as Syd. "Are you looking to visit us for the night or perhaps longer?"

Will thinks about it. There are probably places he and Hannibal would enjoy visiting in the Loire valley. "Can we start with one night and let you know tomorrow morning?"

She types away at her computer. "How many guests?"

"Just myself and my husband," Will says. A gust of cold wind ruffles his hair. He glances back and sees Hannibal with Cephi tucked under his arm, having just walked in through the door. "And our dog! That was a quick walk."

Hannibal blinks several times as if he hasn't realized Will was talking to him. "Oh! Yes, she disapproves of the feeling of snow falling on her ears."

Syd, just moments ago seemingly exhausted, comes to life at the sight of Cephi. Will knows enough French to interpret her enthusiastic gushing as compliments on the little dog's beauty and sweetness. She leans out over her desk to get her face thoroughly kissed. She promises them the best room so Cephi can have plenty of space to run around where there's no snow.

***

After getting Cephi settled into the room with her blankets and favorite cuddly toy, Will takes Hannibal by the hand.

"Let's go for a walk."

The city square is just a few minutes away via pedestrian streets that are almost entirely empty. Maybe it's the fact that the holidays have passed or just that not many people are in the mood for a chilly night walk, but it feels like having the city to themselves. The few brave souls who've ventured out are easy enough to ignore when he has Hannibal at his side. He links their arms together.

"Let me know if you see any place open that has coffee," he says.

"The caffeine will keep you up," Hannibal says.

Will tugs him closer to kiss his cheek. "Guess you'll just have to tire me out."

"I'll do my best," Hannibal says. "But of course, I always do."

They stroll into the center of the city square, the star of which is a statue of a defiant Saint Joan on horseback. Snow billows around her like ashes.

"There's someone I relate to," Will says, nodding towards her. "We both heard things that weren't really there, things that shaped our convictions. Poor thing died for her delusions, though."

"You think God wasn't truly speaking to her?" Hannibal asks.

Will stops walking. "Do _you?_ "

"I wasn't Jeanne's therapist," Hannibal says with more than a little mischief in his eyes. "I can't presume one way or the other."

Will shakes his head and leads them toward what looks like a pub. "I think maybe I'll have a whiskey instead of that coffee."

***

They stumble halfway up the hotel stairs, not _truly_ as drunk as they feel, but it's hard to climb and make out at the same time. There's a lot of stepping on one another's feet and elbowing each other in the ribs. Will sputters laughter into Hannibal's open mouth, which is such a ridiculously unsexy thing to do that it just makes him sputter harder.

Hannibal reaches out with thumb and forefinger and pinches his lips shut. "Be considerate of the other guests," he whispers. "They might not find your rudeness as endearing as I do!"

Will's laughter, now redirected through his nostrils, comes out as a series of loud, burbling honks. He sounds like an overexcited goose with sinus problems.

He bats Hannibal's hand away. "Oh my God!"

Hannibal drags him the rest of the way up the stairs and down the hall to their room. Hannibal fumbles with the key as Will sucks a kiss onto the nape of his neck. He noses into Hannibal's hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo and skin and the wood smoke from the pub they just left.

"You're making this quite difficult," Hannibal says, just before finally getting the key into the lock. "Ah ha!"

They tumble inside and shut the door behind them. Cephi sits up in her bed and lets out a startled yodel. Once she realizes who they are, she settles back down with a sort of grumpy sigh. They must have woken her from a sound snooze.

"Sorry," Will whispers to her as he yanks Hannibal into the bedroom and closes the door.

He turns his attention to Hannibal then, pouncing on him so that they both land on the bed. He tugs aside the collar of his shirt, baring his throat, and Hannibal licks a path from the hollow of his throat to his Adam's apple. There's a heady power in knowing he's just offered up the same part of his body Hannibal ripped from the Great Red Dragon, and instead of death he gets a kiss.

He returns the favor, taking Hannibal's chin in hand and turning his head to one side. He nips the underside of Hannibal's jaw with his teeth, then covers the same spot with a hard, sucking kiss.

"Leave a mark," Hannibal says, panting.

Will laughs against his skin. "You want a hickey?"

"I'm not 16," Hannibal says. "I want a bruise that proclaims the ferocity of your kisses to all the world."

"A _hickey_ ," Will says again. "It doesn't matter how old you are, you're talking about a hickey."

Hannibal huffs. "Yes. Fine. Give me a hickey."

Will sucks the spot hard enough that Hannibal's stubble rubs his lips raw. Hannibal responds as if by reflex, arching his hips off the mattress until he finds Will's thigh with his erection. He rubs against it, moaning wantonly.

Will pulls back. "You're in a mood tonight."

"I'm always in the mood for you," Hannibal says. He thrusts up to punctuate his point. "Did you leave a mark?"

Will nods and grins. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Undress me."

Hannibal, on his back, splays himself across the bed, like a willing sacrifice upon the altar. Will makes a note to himself to say that to Hannibal later. He'll probably like it.

Will starts with unlacing his boots. He tugs them off then asks, "Socks on? It's a little nippy in here."

Hannibal raises his head to look at him. "I am not having sex with my socks on like some kind of pornographic actor."

"You like it when I wear socks," Will points out.

"Only when it's very cold and your feet are like icicles on my shoulders," Hannibal says.

Will yanks off a sock and tickles the sole of the exposed foot in retribution. Hannibal doesn't laugh or pull away, but the corner of his left eye twitches. It's satisfactory enough.

He moves on to Hannibal's belt, unbuckling it before going next to the buttons and zipper of his wool trousers. As he pulls them down, the static makes the hairs of Hannibal's thighs prick up. There's a wet spot growing on the front of his underwear, but Will leaves them in place even as Hannibal raises up his ass.

"Sit up," Will commands, and Hannibal does so.

He pushes Hannibal's coat off his shoulders and tosses it close to the radiator to dry off. He gestures for Hannibal to hold up his arms, then pulls the sweater off over his head. Hannibal's hair, which he's wearing somewhat long these days, stands up at odd angles. Will laughs and smooths it back down with his hands.

"May I return the favor?' Hannibal asks.

"By my guest."

Will kicks off his shoes and wiggles his not-too-cold feet out of his socks while Hannibal goes to work on his belt. Hannibal is not as patient as usual, and jerks down Will's shorts along with the belt and trousers. He doesn't even wait for Will to step out of them before leaning forward and pressing his face into Will's lower belly. He follows the thick trail of hair from navel to crotch with his tongue, then swallows the entire length Will's cock in one swift, practiced motion.

Will cries out at the sudden and encompassing wet heat. His knees almost go out from under him. Hannibal's hands slide up the backs of his thighs, steadying him.

Hannibal pulls off with a hum and a slurp, having sucked him to rock hardness. "Mm. You taste divine. Salty... savory. You make me thirst and slake my thirst all at once."

"That," Will says, " is the most poetic way I've ever heard someone describe precome in my life. Now, get on your belly."

Hannibal readjusts himself on the bed. "What else shall I do?"

"I'll let you know."

Will climbs up onto the bed beside him and lays a hand at the base of his neck. He traces the curve of Hannibal's back and all around the Verger branding mark. Although it's much faded over the last few years, there are parts of it that healed less perfectly than others. There are pearlescent white patches that are flush with the rest of the skin, and others that still look angry and red. It doesn't seem fair that someone as pathetic as Mason Verger would get to leave a permanent mark. Will leans down to kiss the worst-healed parts of it.

"How long did it hurt?" he asks.

"I hardly noticed after the initial pain," Hannibal says. "I put it out of my mind."

"How?"

"I thought of you."

"I'm that effective a distraction?" Will asks.

"You always have been," Hannibal replies. "What shall I do now?"

"Lift up," Will says, and tucks a pillow under Hannibal so that his ass is poised like a waiting gift.

He starts at the back of Hannibal's left knee, planting a little kiss on the soft skin there. Hannibal stretches out and makes a happy noise. He raises up on his elbows so he can glance back at Will over his shoulder. Will watches Hannibal's expression. It begins with cheerful curiosity and then, as Will gently skims the back of Hannibal's thigh with the points of his bottom teeth, becomes glazed and heated. Now Will finally tugs down Hannibal's underwear. It's like revealing a gift. He tongues the soft fold where Hannibal's buttocks rise from his upper thighs, licking into it as he would Hannibal's lips to open them. Hannibal arches his back, pushing up for more contact.

"Patience," Will tells him.

Hannibal, defiant, spreads his legs apart and arches his back even more.

"You want my tongue or my fingers?" Will asks.

"Both," Hannibal says. "Sequentially, and then perhaps in concert."

"Do you want to be fucked tonight?" Will asks.

"I would've thought that was obvious," Hannibal sniffs.

Will reaches under Hannibal for his cock and balls, drawing them down so that he has access to them between Hannibal's spread legs. He's so hard and the slit of his cock is gleaming wet. Will starts there, leaning over to tongue the gently wrinkled join of Hannibal's foreskin to the shaft of his cock. Hannibal gasps. Will sucks kisses up the underside of the shaft---not so hard as to leave hickeys this time---up between the divide of his balls and across his perineum. Will adds his thumb there, pressing and rubbing just firmly enough that Hannibal will feel the pressure in his prostate. He gives only the slightest, most teasing little flicks of his tongue around the perimeter of Hannibal's asshole without delving inside.

Hannibal grunts with frustration. "I fear what monster I may create by admitting this to you---"

Will laughs once, incredulous. "Since when have you been afraid of creating a monster out of me!"

Hannibal ignores him. "A highly respected psychiatrist once helped me realize that I love being tortured by you."

Will sits up. "You did _not_ just bring up Bedelia when I'm about to put my tongue in your ass."

"The psychiatrist was myself," Hannibal clarifies. "I was talking to myself and my self was talking to me. In my memory palace. He held my face in his hands and whispered in my ear. It was quite... _elucidating_."

"That's strangely hot," Will says at conjuring the mental image of an extra Hannibal getting all up in Hannibal's personal space. "Why are you bringing this up now, though?"

"Because," Hannibal says, "I needed to remind myself while you're taking so long to give me what I want."

"Oh, so I'm _torturing_ you," Will says. "How rude of me. Let me apologize."

He takes Hannibal's ass cheeks in hand, spreading them as much as he can, and gets his face right in there to give Hannibal the ass eating of his life.

"You're... you're f-forgiven," Hannibal just barely manages to say.

Will makes a noisy, sloppy, and very thorough job of it, getting his tongue in as far as it'll go and then working in his index finger. It's apparently quite the sensation overload, and leaves Hannibal drooling onto his own forearms as he writhes on the bed. He ruts against the pillow until Will puts a calming hand in the small of his back.

Hannibal makes a frustrated sound.

"On your back," Will tells him with a pat to the butt.

Hannibal flips himself over so quickly, it looks damned near like a magic trick. In almost the same swift, smooth move, he also hikes his knees up his chest.

"Where's the little bottle?" Hannibal asks.

"You know you can call it lube," Will says. "Everyone else calls it lube."

"I'm not an automobile being taken in for an oil change," Hannibal points out. "Where's the little bottle?"

Will pulls it out of his toiletry bag, conveniently located on the bench at the foot of the bed. He holds it up to show Hannibal before slathering a good portion of its contents all over his cock and the fingers of his right hand. He twists two fingers inside Hannibal.

"I want to still feel what you do to me tonight," Hannibal says, "when we're walking amongst the city's tourists tomorrow."

He doesn't have to make the request a second time.

Will takes his cock in hand and pushes into Hannibal in one quick lunge. It knocks the breath out of Hannibal, who throws back his head and exhales in a startled burst. Will pulls out to the tip and rams it back home. Hannibal's eyes roll back in his head.

"Harder," Hannibal demands, voice rough. "Harder. _Faster_."

Will snugs his thighs up to Hannibal's ass and hunches up over him. He gets one hand around the back of Hannibal's neck, bracing him in place, and fucks him into the mattress.

Hannibal's hair, lank with sweat, shakes over his brow from the force and speed of Will's movements. Hannibal lets go of his right leg so he can stroke his cock, matching Will's pace and intensity. Even over the din of their mingled grunts and hard breathing, Will can hear the slick friction of skin on skin.

"Harder," Hannibal says again.

Will tangles his hand in the hair at the back of Hannibal's head and pulls, turning his face up for a rough kiss. Their teeth scrape together. Their jaws knock into one another as Will continues to pound Hannibal as hard as he can. And even still, Hannibal groans at him, "More, more..."

So he slides backwards off the bed until one foot hits the ground, giving him better leverage. He yanks Hannibal down with him.

The bed rocks beneath them, its wooden legs thumping against the floor. The springs squeal in rhythmic protest.

"More!"

"This! Is! All! There! Is!" He slams into Hannibal with each word. " _Ungh!_ "

He comes so hard, it's as much agony as it is bliss. It's like being turned inside out through the lowest part of his belly. He's only dimly aware of Hannibal grabbing him close and tossing him onto his back on the bed. His vision swims as Hannibal climbs up on top of him, straddling him, sinking himself down onto Will's still-pulsing cock.

"Good lord," Will mumbles as Hannibal grinds away, greedily searching for his own pleasure.

Will sort of blindly flails his hand out until he catches Hannibal's wildly bobbing cock, giving him something to thrust into. His other hand falls onto Hannibal's thigh, feels the muscles straining and trembling. The bed scoots along the floor. Will hopes nobody is staying in the room beneath them...

Hannibal's breath catches and his movements stutter. A split second later, Will feels the thick, wet heat of Hannibal's release striping his hand and belly.

Will is still mostly paralyzed from his shattering orgasm when Hannibal rolls off of him and into his arms, but he manages to turn his head and kiss the thing nearest to him. He thinks it's Hannibal's cheek, judging by how angular it feels.

"Think you'll feel that tomorrow?" Will asks.

"And the day after," Hannibal says.

Will laughs. "Good."

* * *

  
**Le Château**

  
After taking Cephi to a dog daycare in town recommended to them by Syd, Will and Hannibal take the rental car out to tour le Château de Chambord. Since Hannibal seems intent on surrounding himself with tourists, Will purchases tickets for the guided tour. He barely notices the apartments resplendent with antiques and artwork, and instead mostly watches Hannibal, who beams with pride until he straight up glows with it. Will is pretty sure he's even angled his pocket square to point directly up at the hickey under his jaw.

Lingering at the back of the group, Will reaches down to cup Hannibal's ass, pressing with his fingers up against his crack where he knows Hannibal still feels the events of the night before.

Hannibal gasps without glancing over at him. " _Naughty_."

Now it's Will's turn to beam with pride. Little does Hannibal know the surprise awaiting him...

The tour guide, an older gentleman, asks the group, "Who among us today is married? Betrothed?" Three couples raise their hands and he launches into some story about a tragic romance that occurred in the apartment they're currently touring.

Hannibal quietly clears his throat. When Will looks over at him, Hannibal gives him... an expectant look? It's hard to say. He's being weird again.

"What?" Will whispers.

Hannibal just shushes him and turns his attention back to the guide, who's probably not saying anything he doesn't already know.

When the group heads _en masse_ towards the next part of the tour, Will reaches for Hannibal's hand, tugging him away from everyone else.

"I was going to wait until the tour was over," he says.

"For what?" Hannibal asks.

With a quick glance around to make sure nobody is watching, he leads Hannibal out of the chateau, through the bare winter garden and into the forest beyond. In the spring and summer, there would be security guarding the deer towers, probably, but who in their right mind goes here when it's freezing cold? If he doesn't look behind himself to the French castle, Will can easily imagine himself back in Wolf Trap during a traditionally bleak winter.

"I wanted us to come here because it reminded me of our past together in Virginia," he says. "And also because you wanted to show off your hickey and aching ass to random crowds of people."

"Your handiwork," Hannibal corrects him.

He takes Hannibal by the shoulders and poses him against an oak tree. The bony branches rise up behind him like antlers. The low winter sun casts shadows that deepen the angles of Hannibal's face. He looks like the hybrid creature that used to haunt Will's hallucinations... and that gave him such a good hand job in a dream that it made him realize he was hot for Hannibal.

"Are you about to ask me something?" Hannibal asks. "You have a look of longing."

Will reaches up to touch his face. "More like... about to give you something."

Hannibal arches his brows. "Is it small and circular?"

Will thinks about it. "I mean... I guess so? Everyone's, I think."

"Does my finger go in it?" Hannibal asks.

Will laughs. "Of course, usually," he says. "But not this time. I came prepared."

He turns around, unbuttons his pants and lowers them just enough to expose his bare ass to the freezing wind. If this isn't proof that he's fucking crazy in love with Hannibal...

"I don't understand," Hannibal says.

"There's a reason I didn't eat breakfast this morning," Will says, and guides Hannibal's hand to his crack.

Hannibal feels around. "Are...are you wearing an anal plug?"

Will turns back to face him and wraps his arms around Hannibal's neck. "I didn't know how much time we'd have to ourselves on the tour, so I came prepared. Let's do it up against this tree, or... or one of the deer towers if it's not locked up for the winter. You don't think your dick'll get frostbite, do you?"

"Put it away, Will."

Hannibal disentangles himself from the embrace and stalks off toward the outer edge of the trees.

Will, his ass hanging in the air like two half-deflated party balloons, gawps after him for a full ten seconds before hitching up his pants and chasing after him. It's _quite_ a sensation running around with the plug inside him. He makes himself focus on the task at hand.

"Would you wait for me!" he calls out. Hannibal just speeds up.

He's nearly to the parking area before Will catches up to him. God damn he's fast. Those ridiculously long legs!

Hannibal wheels around on him. "You confound me!"

Will stops so fast he nearly stumbles over his own feet. "I have no idea what this is about, but I thought you loved being tortured by me?"

"When you do it on purpose," Hannibal says. "But this... you're just being _oblivious_."

Will throws up his arms. "Oblivious! Nobody's so oblivious as a guy who tried to eat my brain to make himself feel better!"

"Rest assured I will never attempt it again," Hannibal says. "I'd probably fail for some coincidentally timed reason and then you'd just toss us both off a cliff!"

They glare at each other, seething, for what seems like an idiotically long time. Then, somehow, they both start laughing. Thank God it's the off-season and everyone is inside.

"After everything, to fight about _this_ ," Hannibal says. "What are we doing?"

"I don't even know what _this_ is!" Will protests. He takes Hannibal's hands in his own. "You know it took me years to realize you were in love with me, and I even then had to _ask_ someone about it. Help me out here. Does it have something to do with why you've been acting so weird?"

"I thought you were going to propose," Hannibal says, glancing down in the way he does when he can't risk looking into Will's eyes.

Will replays the times he thought Hannibal was behaving oddly. The first time he remembers noticing it was the night he told Hannibal about his chat with Adriana. He'd mentioned something about "settling down..."

_Settling down._

"Oh my God," Will says as he replays the most recent incident, just minutes ago in the woods. "You were talking about a _ring_. I thought you were talking about my asshole! Okay, admittedly, the ring thing does make more sense now that I actually think about it. You have to realize I was _incredibly_ horny."

"When you were telling me about what you did to Robbie Goodnight," Hannibal says quietly, "you twice referred to me as your husband."

"Of course I did," Will says, still baffled.

Hannibal pulls Will closer to him so he can whisper in his ear. "Do you recall my reaction when you told me you'd killed him?" Will nods, swallowing thickly as he recalls how Hannibal had looked at him. "The intensity of my reaction was due as much to the fact that you'd proclaimed me your husband, as it was to the description of your tableau."

"It... just came naturally," Will whispers back.

"Killing him or calling me yours?" Hannibal asks.

"Both," Will tells him.

Hannibal takes half a step back. The absence of his body is so sudden, it makes Will somewhat dizzy.

"And then you called me your husband to the desk clerk last night," Hannibal says, his tone lighter. "Yet when the tour guide asked for married couples just now, you said nothing."

Will boggles at him. "Hannibal, we were in a room full of mostly American tourists. Hickey not withstanding, I didn't really want to stand out to them."

"I was confused," Hannibal says.

"We don't have to be married to be husbands," Will points out.

"Of course not," Hannibal says. "What do the laws of God or men have to do with us?"

Will takes his hands again. "Exactly. The only thing that matters is what we are to each other, right? You're mine. I'm yours. In every possible sense. We're more intertwined, more vital to each other than any married couple that ever walked down the aisle."

"I couldn't agree more." Hannibal smiles at him and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "I simply misinterpreted a few things. Now that I realize we see things the same way, my confusion has abated."

After another quick glance around, Will lowers his voice. "Wanna bang in the car?"

"Of course I do," Hannibal says. "But first I want to stop by the gift shop. I saw a scarf that Cephi can wear to match my favorite tie."

* * *

  
**On the Road Again**

  
Two days later, they leave Orléans and head toward Dijon. They eat in charming little restaurants in nearby villages lined with cobblestone roads, tour wine cellars and drink wine from half the Bourgogne's vineyards. Most of Will's enjoyment comes from how much Hannibal appreciates them and then, later, when they catch moments alone, tasting it on his lips. Hannibal's moments of weirdness don't make any further appearances.

Towards the end of a week in Dijon, Will hears about the good fishing in nearby Beaune.

"Lots of catfish lurking around there," Will tells Hannibal. "Sounds like the rivers where I grew up."

"Please give the fish my regards," Hannibal says. "And kindly don't bring one back to the hotel."

So he takes the car while Hannibal stays in the city with Cephi, and hires a boat from an elderly gentleman who seems somewhat grumpy to have to take a tourist out in the middle of winter.

"Where is your fishing license?" the gentleman asks. At least that's what Will thinks he asks. There's something about a " _carte de pêche_ " and maybe something else about how the man's lazy son is usually the one who does this. Perhaps he's madder at the son than he is at Will.

" _Je ne vais pas_..." Will starts to say. He takes out his phone and looks up the words. " _Je ne vais pas attraper de poisson_. I don't want to catch any fish. I just want to go fishing. _Pour deux heure_." He hands over an extra 50 Euros.

The old man regards him with steely gray eyes for what feels like a long time before shrugging and taking the money.

Will starts to return his phone to his pocket, then decides there's one more thing he wants to look up.

***

He gets back to their homey little room at la Cour Berbisey not long before Hannibal and Cephi do.

Cephi trots over to him for kisses, but Hannibal lingers at the door with his shopping bags. He sniffs in Will's direction. "You don't smell like fish."

"I just wanted to arc the line into the water for a while," Will says. "Sometimes the goal of fishing isn't to catch anything."

"I could say something profound about that," Hannibal says. "But I'm piqued that the Hermès boutique had a bounty of accessories for horses and not a stitch for dogs."

Will tosses a tennis ball for Cephi. "Aren't horses kind of their trademark animal, though?"

Hannibal bristles. "That shouldn't prevent them making collars for dogs, Will."

"You didn't murder anyone, did you?" Will laughs.

"Of course not," Hannibal says. "But I only bought two pocket squares."

"What a stinging retribution." He looks at Cephi when she scampers up to him with the ball in her mouth, her tail wagging. She's wearing a light blue silk scarf with red checks. It looks _just_ like the pocket square currently residing in Hannibal's jacket. "Wait a second. Did you turn one of those Hermès things into a scarf for her?"

"I had to make do, didn't I?" Hannibal asks, looking quite surprised at even being asked.

"Yes, I suppose you did," Will says. It's so ridiculous, but he can't help but burst with a new surge of fondness. "Hey, let's get married."

Hannibal blinks. It takes him a moment to catch up. "But---you said---"

"Yeah, screw what I said," Will says. "I mean, we might as well, right? I'm already used to calling you my husband anyway."

Hannibal blinks some more. "Can we even...? Officially?"

Will takes out his phone and shows him the information he looked up while in Beaune. It's a _Tattle Crime_ article about how Molly divorced him six months earlier. There was special "missing spouse" paperwork she had to file, but most of the article is about how Freddie Lounds doesn't believe the Murder Husbands are really dead.

"I read that six months ago," Hannibal says, glancing at the screen.

"You didn't mention it," Will says.

"I thought you would look it up for yourself," Hannibal says. "If and when the time came."

Will crosses the room and pulls Hannibal toward him by the waist. "Well, the time came. What do you say?"

"I say there's but one condition---"

"If it's that we have an all-people menu---"

"We wed in Italy this spring," Hannibal interrupts him. "I've always wanted to show you Florence."

Will can't keep the goofy grin off his face. "Deal," he says, and gets his first kiss from his fiancé.

  
(to be continued)

 

**Author's Note:**

> The sex scene is inspired by that famous gif of Colby Keller looking like Hannibal getting boned.


End file.
